by Langland, J.
What would his friends say? He imagined that if he died at Reggie's party, they'd all be shitting bricks. Even if he was only in a coma, they'd still be majorly freaked out. Serves them right, Tom thought vindictively, for giving him that bad grass. They could go home that night, even if they didn't sleep well. Tom was stuck here, either forever, or until he woke up, if it was a dream. In the meantime he'd have to be constantly living in fear of more intense agonies. Thinking of pain, Tom noticed that he was sore all over. Noticing that brought him back to where he was.
Quickly, he looked around. The large cave was deserted, only he and the dragon body were in the cavern. Actually, sans dragon, the cavern was pretty nice and roomy. However, Tom tried inhaling, which caused a great deal of pain where he'd been bitten, and he caught a powerful smell of rotting. The dragon corpse was stinking really bad. Apparently he'd been out for some time.
He looked down at his legs to see if he'd ever walk again, and was surprised to see that they were almost back to normal. Touching them, he noticed that they were quite tender, but all the muscle had pretty much returned. Looking down at his chest, and feeling it with his hand, he noted that the puncture was closed, and only a large indenture and some scarring was left. It seemed that demons bodies repaired themselves. Carefully he tried to stand.
He wobbled a bit, both from weakness and from still not being totally familiar with his new legs. After he got to his feet, he tried flexing his wings. They definitely had a twinge to them, but, as far as he could tell, were fully functional.
Well if he had to be stuck in a video game it was good to have regeneration as a power. It might have been nice to have designed his own character so he knew what it could do. Character? Tom shook his head. There was no character, it was him. He was the demon warrior fighting dragons! He had to close his eyes and take a deep breath to avoid freaking out. He needed to get to doing something, stop thinking about this.
The first order of business, Tom decided, was to remove this unwanted corpse from his new living room. Tom walked over to the dragon’s head, and carefully picked it up. Actually, Tom thought, it might be nice to have a souvenir. He reached into the mouth with his right hand, and steadied the head with his left. Deftly gripping one of the fangs, he pulled. Crack, snap, the tooth came loose from the mouth. It was covered by decomposing flesh and was pretty sick, but Tom figured, it was worth it. He then repeated the exercise with the other three fangs until he had a nice set of four dragon fangs.
Tom then picked up the head in both heads and proceeded to carry it to his entrance. When he reached the cave mouth, he looked over the edge. Now, where to put it? He could toss it over, but that was likely to draw scavengers that he really didn't want to deal with, so perhaps it was best to take it away someplace. He glanced up, and around the valley. Nowhere here, Tom decided. As he'd been taught, Tom began walking towards the center of the valley. When he reached the edge of ledge he kept on going. He then reoriented himself, and flew up and over his mountain. He'd decided that his best bet would probably be to dump it a few valleys over. He flew down the backside of his mountain and then up the next mountain and into the next valley. When he got to a likely spot, he simply let go of the head and watched it fall. He then returned to his cave.
As he landed on the ledge, he realized that he hadn't marked the cave yet. Thinking that marking would be the best way to keep unwanted visitors away, Tom imagined himself walking up a ladder to the top of the cave mouth. His wings complied, and there he was. Now, what would he use as a mark? Tom really didn't feel too creative today, so he finally decided on a cursive `T' with a flourish of a circle around it. True, it was imitative of the other demon who had used a circled `Y,' but who was to know. Using the nail of his index finger, Tom carved his symbol in a relatively smooth space above the mouth.
He descended and started back down the cave. As he was walking back to the cavern, Tom suddenly realized that the dragon, when it was alive would have had to twist and constrict itself to get through the passageways. It was dead now, and Tom would have to carry it out somehow. Fun, Tom thought, this is going to be messy.
Tom was just pulling the last of the dragon's legs out of the cave when a voice hailed him from above. "Ho, Tom, what you got there? A giant drumstick?"
Tom turned around and saw Boggy descending from the sky.
"No, just doing a little house cleaning." Tom was actually glad to see the little demon. It was nice to have someone to talk to, after dragging random dragon parts out of the cave and dumping them, for the last hour.
"Nasty looking termites you've got," Boggy commented as he landed on the ledge.
"Actually, not only nasty looking, but just plain nasty."
"I can see. Must have been a great fight." Boggy was eyeing Tom's wound's with an appraising eye. "How long ago did you kill it?"
"I don't know, I slept for a long time after. The fight was probably about eight hours after I woke up beneath the ledge."
Boggy raised both his eyebrows, which of course were hairless. "Then definitely a nasty fight. That would have been two Astlanian days ago. If that's all the more healed you are, then you were in bad shape."
"Yeah, he sunk a fang clear through me." Tom pointed to his chest wound, and to the smaller scar he'd discovered, where the fang had come out. "And his acid breath squirted me all over."
"Well how did you finally kill it then? Those things are mean S.O.B.'s."
"I spotted a weak spot, under its neck, and jumped with both feet for it. When they got in, well, I just kicked its guts until it died." Tom felt a small glow of pride in telling his tale.
"Lucky you spotted that weak area. I don't know what plane those fellows originally came from, but their anatomy sure makes them hard to locate a vital area."
"Plane they came from?. This isn't another demon is it?" Tom got nervous, he'd thought he'd just killed some stupid monster. Not another human being in demon form.
"Yep it is, but don't worry," Boggy hastened to add, seeing Tom's stricken look. "They were never humans, like you or I. They belong to some sort of warm blooded technological reptile race out on the edge of some distant galaxy, in god knows what universe. They hate humans and human demons. They always do their best to kill us, so we either try to kill them too, or avoid them if they're stronger than us."
"Oh," Tom said, somewhat relieved. He still didn't like killing another intelligent being. He wondered why though, it hadn't bothered him until Boggy had mentioned the possibility of it being another demon. Of course, it wasn't like he'd had much choice, the thing was trying to kill him. But, his conscience nagged him, Tom had invaded its cave.
"I guess Tizzy didn't mention the fact that just because a cave isn't marked, doesn't mean it's empty."
"No, he didn't," Tom replied hesitantly.
"Well, all human demons mark their caves, but some of the alien ones don't. That dragon living there was also probably the reason you don't see many other demons out this way."
Curious, Tom asked, "Boggy how did you find me?"
"Wasn't too hard. When I finally got back, I found Tizzy and he showed me where he'd left you. I simply went towards the mountains looking. It took me quite a while, but eventually I spotted this cave and saw the `T' on it."
"You saw that mark from way up high?"
"Sure, demon sight is a lot better than any mere eagle sight. Just concentrate on something at a distance. If they can, your eyes will focus on it. Try it sometime."
"What other things, besides the eyesight, the regeneration, and the aliens not marking their caves haven't I been told?" Tom asked suspiciously.
Boggy smiled at him, "Now lad, you can't expect me to tell you everything, that would take all the fun out of it. Besides itis sometimes best if you find out for yourself what you can and cannot do. That way I don't limit you by telling you what you should and should not be able to accomplish. Who knows, different demons can do different things, maybe you can do things that I consider impossible."
"Now, except for the oversight on the markings, we've told you everything really necessary for survival, don't worry. Besides, there isn't much that can permanently hurt you here."
"Speaking of permanently hurt," Tom realized, "why did this dragon decompose and I regenerate. How did I actually manage to kill it."
"That is a bit complex. But basically speaking it has to do with the basic differences in the energy patterns between us and the dragons. The dragons, regenerate faster, but not if you kill them. You and I regenerate fairly slowly, but still incredibly fast compared to a man. Dragons regenerate about three times faster than we do. The only way to slow them down is to cut off their heads and destroy their hearts. Which, it appears that you inadvertently did. Now, once you do that to a dragon, it can't regenerate its old body, so it just abandons it. It then has to form a new one from scratch, and that could take a couple hundred years before it gathers enough energy to form one. We, on the other hand, don't stop regenerating after a certain point. The largest part of our bodies left after a fight, somehow gathers up what's left of our field and begins rebuilding. So, we generally stay with essentially the same body. Which, I might add, is many times faster than starting from scratch."
"That's handy to know. Here, fly with me, while I dump this." Tom launched in the air and took off to the dump site, Boggy following.
"So," Boggy asked, "have you seen your accursed master again?"
"Yes," Tom answered as they flew. "It was kind of strange. This time there were only two people with him, and they had some sort of ring and did some sort of mumbo jumbo about binding me to the ring and some Neverending Loop."
"Hmm," Boggy said knowingly.
"What were they doing?"
"Well, it sounds to me as if they are preparing to control several demons at one time. What they did was bind you to a talisman. Which basically means that any wizard who has the ring, can command you without first doing a bunch of rituals to bind you. Essentially, anyone wearing the ring is as protected from you as if you were in a pentagram, and they can command you in the name of the master who did the binding."
Tom reached the place where he was depositing the dragon bits, and let the leg go. As he turned to head back he asked, "Now just exactly, who can normally command my service."
"Well, basically any wizard who knows your true name and does the required bindings for a demon of your power, or any wizard with the ring who knows how to use it. Now, the first wizard to bind you has precedence over any later wizards binding you; unless, the later wizard is a lot more powerful than the first. Actually, I really wouldn't worry too much about it. You'll know whose orders to follow, by being able to carry out those orders when they conflict. For now, just realize that anyone who's guts you can rip out, can't command you."
"Great." Tom didn't relish the idea of going around ripping people’s guts out to determine if he should follow their orders; that really wasn't the best way to make friends. Tom also couldn't feel the bloodthirsty attitude towards the Astlanians that Boggy did. He didn't like them, but that didn't mean he wanted to kill them. Sure, for a while he'd wanted to strangle Lenamare, but that was only one Astlanian, and that only for a short while after being bullied by him.
Tom and Boggy went back inside the cave to get the tail and the lower torso of the dragon. Boggy dragged the tail out and Tom what was left of the torso. It was a tight fit, but eventually he got it to the cave mouth. Tom leaped into the air and Boggy followed, puffing as he hauled the tail along. Tom's section was bigger and heavier, but Boggy was the weaker demon. Eventually they both made it to the dumping site and unloaded the last of the dragon.
"I noticed as I was chopping up the dragon, there was very little blood on the ground. Some of the ground had been dissolved, but there really seemed like more blood in the dragon when I fought it," Tom commented as they returned to Tom's cave.
"Dragon blood evaporates quickly, and when in gaseous form is extremely volatile. Their acid breath is a toned down version of their blood. When they get extremely excited, more blood is pumped in and the acid gets stronger. If they exert themselves physically and raise their body temperature, the acid becomes a gas and the dragon can strike sparks on its teeth to ignite it as it breaths."
"Fire breathing dragon."
"Exactly."
"So is my cave likely to explode, if I spark something?"
"I doubt it, but it’s possible, however it would probably only cause you mild pain, we're fairly fire resistant."
"But not acid."
"You've got to give the poor suckers a fighting chance after all," replied Boggy with a grin.
Chapter 14
"Have you learned anything from the man yet?" Jehenna asked as she relaxed in the chair across from Lenamare's desk.
"No," he said looking at her from behind his desk, "not yet. We will though. If the normal interrogators don't succeed by tomorrow afternoon, I'll threaten him with the salt trick.”
Jehenna shuddered; the salt trick was bad. In fact it was forbidden by every guild in Astlan. Fortunately only a very few wizards were capable of doing it. Lenamare, of course, was one. The salt trick was not done often, not because it was illegal, but because it was tedious and extremely taxing to the wizards involved.
It involved spells to keep the victim alive as his skin was carefully peeled off in one piece. Salt and other substances such as ammonia were then gently applied to the inside of the skin. The skin was placed back on the victim. The wounds quickly sealed and healed magically, then the person given a thorough rub down. It was extremely unpleasant. It required two wizards and three experienced torturers to get it right. That, however, was not the worst part. The worst part was that Exador knew the trick also and he liked to do it for fun.
As a rule, the preparations and perhaps a little cutting were all that were necessary to get the victim to talk. Although few had seen it done, almost everyone knew what it was. Lenamare, in his characteristically benevolent and generous nature, had only had to threaten it and had never actually had to do it. Exador’s ancestors on the other hand, had been known to do it, and most presumed he would as well.
"Sounds like a fun night," Jehenna said drolly.
"Oh yes. We must know Exador's strength though, and we must know how soon he will arrive. This is survival of the fittest. May the best wizard win."
"To you," Jehenna said as she nodded and picked up the wine goblet beside her and raised it in a toast.
"To me."
~
Jenn tucked the last of the children in. They had had a busy day, as had she. She smiled wearily as she went down the corridor to her own cubicle. Those children were perhaps the only light in this damn school. She really didn't like it here. No one did. Master Trisfelt was nice, and Hortwell tolerable. Elrose was aloof but fair; Lenamare gave her the creeps; and she disliked his better than the gods attitude. Jehenna, however, was a bitch.
When she had hurried home with the children and reported the scout in the woods, all Jehenna could say was "Why didn't you bring him in for questioning? now I have to send guards out." As if Jenn could have managed five children, two small wagons and a struggling captive on the mile long hike back to the castle. It seemed that no matter what she did, no matter how good she was, she could never satisfy Jehenna. Lenamare didn't bother to notice her, and Jehenna kept demanding more.
This was price one had to pay to be a wizard. Unfortunately, Lenamare's school was the only one around with an opening when her parents discovered her talents. Thus, they'd packed her off, and paid a stiff matriculation fee, as well as tuition each year. Jenn often wondered what happened to those people with talent and no money to pay for education.
She walked into her cubicle and sat down on her cot. She looked around the room, there really wasn't much here. There was the cot, a small table and stool, a small trunk with her few changes of clothes and her extra robe, the two text books she called her own, paper and pens, nothing of re
al value, but it was all she owned in the entire world. Except for the little brown leather book, with the gold embossing, her diary. It was what recorded her world. Every night she faithfully recorded her day. The diary was one small piece of private stability, her best friend. Tonight she'd recorded her busy day before putting the little ones to bed.
All in all the room wasn't much, but it was home. She hadn't seen her parents since they'd sent her away, six years ago. She'd been eleven when she came here, already two to three years older than most of the initiates, like Daphne and Rupert and their friends. She had learned quickly though, now she was nearly caught up with the rest of the students her age. She still had trouble getting enough force into the destructive spells, her best talents lay in healing and nature spells.
Enough thought for one evening, Jenn decided. She blew out the candle and stripped off her gown. Quickly she slid between her covers, savoring the small relaxations in her life. For some really obscure reason, the flame of the candle had made her think of demons. Did they sleep at night?, Did they even do much of anything when they weren't serving, other than kill each other and perform other hideous and unspeakable acts? She knew then she must be tired, why else would she be thinking such silly thoughts.
Chapter 15
Tom dug the last bit of stone out with his index finger. Since Boggy and he had finished cleaning up the dragon, Tom hadn't really had much to do. Boggy stayed around for a few more hours, talking about his experiences as a slave, and sharing a few of his personal thoughts on the situation. He had then decided he'd better go and find Tizzy.
